


The Charms Classroom on the Second Floor

by RegalRosemary



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, PWP, Smut, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-08-30 00:41:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8512099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RegalRosemary/pseuds/RegalRosemary
Summary: During his late night stroll of the castle, Harry overhears a moan and can't resist taking a peek.(DELETED AND REPOSTED DUE TO SITE GLITCH)





	

It all starts with Harry hearing an erotic moan that gives him goosebumps. He doesn’t mean to overhear, he truly doesn’t. He is merely taking a late night walk around the Hogwarts castle as he does most nights when he can’t sleep. He had no idea other students would be using the Charms classroom on the second floor, across from the stature of Helga Hufflepuff, to have sex.

Of course once he hears the moan coming from the slightly ajar door, he is tempted beyond possible resistance to take a peek. Just a quick peek, he tells himself, to see who the couple is and move on. Nothing but curiosity. He double checks to ensure he is fully covered by the invisibility cloak before carefully ducking his head around the side of the door, careful not to actually touch it.

Harry holds back a gasp by bringing his fist to his mouth. It isn’t a couple. It is one person. Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy, leaning against a desk, pants down, arse on complete display. As he is facing the other way, Harry can’t see for certain, but from the way Draco’s elbow juts up and down, he has little doubt his rival is stroking himself.

Harry watches Draco’s elbow transfixed. Up, down, up down, moan, up, moan, down, up, moan, moan, down, up, down, up, down. Oh Merlin. The sounds Draco is making! If only he would just turn around. Wait, what. Harry doesn’t want to see Malfoy’s cock. Why would he have any interest in seeing that? This is Malfoy for Christ’s sake. Malfoy!

Resisting the urge to continue staring – he is not interested in Malfoy – Harry quickly pulls his head back into the corridor and closes his eyes to focus himself. This is wrong. He doesn’t want to see Malfoy like this. Ever. With this resolve, he begins walking away from the classroom slowly, careful to soften the sound of his footsteps. However, it is a pointless endeavor because it is at this point that Malfoy moans his loudest, drowning out any noise. The sound of Malfoy’s obvious release rushes through Harry’s body all the way to his crotch. His cock rock hard, Harry pauses for a moment, gritting his teeth, before continuing to walk back to his dormitory.

Once back in his bed, he tries to ignore his erection and sleep. Merlin, he really does. But Malfoy’s moans echo in his head on a constant repeat, and without even thinking about it, he finds his hand is already on his cock. It doesn’t take him many strokes before he is cumming in his sheets.

Harry cleans up the mess with his wand and sighs. He is so totally and completely fucked.

 

* * *

 

The following morning, Harry begins his routine as usual without a thought to the previous night. He showers and dresses without any stray thoughts. It’s not until he enters the Great Hall for breakfast, and he sees Malfoy at the Slytherin table –where his eyes drift to naturally – when the images and sounds of last night come back to him. He takes a deep breath.

“Harry,” says Ron noticing his friend has paused, “are you alright?”

“Fine” squeaks Harry unconvincingly, tearing his eyes away from Malfoy. He focuses on moving his legs forward and manages to walk to the Gryffindor table without further incident. As soon as he sits, his eyes flick up towards Malfoy without his permission. Malfoy is eating toast. Toast. There is nothing sexy about toast. But still, seeing his rival take a bite of that toast causes an inappropriate reaction in Harry. Thank Merlin for the table’s coverage. Harry shifts in his seat uncomfortably.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Harry? You seem a little off this morning.” Says Ron, looking at Harry concerned.

Harry is about to reply when Malfoy takes another bite of his toast. It gives him goosebumps. What the fuck?

“Harry?” Ron asks again when his friend his silent. He follows Harry’s gaze to spot Malfoy, although doesn’t seem to have the same reaction to the toast situation. He scowls. “What did he do?”

“What?”

“What did that git do this time? He’s obviously rattled you.”

“Oh.” Harry bites his lip. Ron is closer to the truth than he realises. “Nothing. He’s just a prat is all.”

Ron narrows his eyes suspiciously but doesn’t push further. Harry is grateful. He’s not quite sure he can explain last night to anyone. It’s fine enough that he happened to catch Malfoy in the act, but he can’t exactly explain why he stayed a little longer than strictly necessary, nor his particular reaction to what he saw. Harry is mindful to keep his eyes on the food in front of him for the rest of breakfast. If he keeps looking at Malfoy and that blasted toast, he won’t be able to leave the table.

 

* * *

 

When third period rolls around, Harry curses to himself when he realises he has Charms, and of course it is in the classroom on the second floor in which he had just witnessed Malfoy wanking last night. Why didn’t Harry realise this earlier? He was so focused on not focusing on Malfoy, he hadn’t even given a single thought to Charms.

Upon entering the classroom, Harry’s eyes are immediately drawn to the table in the back right corner, the one Malfoy had been leaning on when…when he…The image of Malfoy with his pants around his ankles flashes in Harry’s mind and he desperately pushes it away. It is not the time. It will never be the time. This is Malfoy. Harry is not interested.

To his own horror, Harry finds himself walking directly to the table in question. He doesn’t know why, but he reaches out to touch it, as if to make sure it’s real. Following Harry’s direction, Ron and Hermione shadow him and take a seat…at the very table. Oh no. He didn’t mean to…he can’t possibly sit at this desk for the entire lesson. He looks around, but all the other desks are already being filled up by the other students.

One particular student catches his eye. Malfoy. He is staring between Harry and the desk with an unreadable look in his eyes. Harry quickly turns and take a seat beside Hermione at the desk, simply because class is about to start, he tells himself, and not because he is worried about getting a stiffy in front of all his peers. No, not at all.

Throughout class, Harry stares at the desk in front of him. He hadn’t seen it – only heard it – but he wonders if Malfoy spilled his cum onto the tabletop. He stares at the wood intently as if expecting the telltale white streaks to reveal themselves, but of course they do not. Without thinking why he does it – as this would require some intense self-reflection – he puts his hands face down on the desk, and then leans forward so his head rests on top of his knuckles. It’s as close he can get to the desk without drawing suspicion in class. He risks a surreptitious glance at Malfoy who is staring at him intently. Merlin, he’d love to know what Malfoy is thinking. Is he imaging what it would be like to have had Harry’s face right here last night, underneath his cock as he came? Oh no, wait, that’s just what Harry is imaging. What the fuck?

Harry quickly lifts his head up away from the desk. This is wrong. He cannot be fantasizing about Malfoy in class and thinking about his…no. Definitely not. It is entirely inappropriate and irrational. He hates Malfoy. He’s a prat. He’s a bully. He’s a Death Eater. No, that’s not fair. Harry takes back the last insult in his mind. Whatever mark he may have been given, Harry doesn’t believe that Malfoy was ever truly a Death Eater. But he’s still a prat. An evil prat. Who the fuck wanks in classrooms anyway? Without even closing the door. With no silencing charms. Why can’t he just wank in his bed with the curtains drawn like any normal teenager? This is all Malfoy’s faults Harry thinks as he carefully readjusts his pants under the table.

 

* * *

 

 

It is 11.23pm. Harry can’t sleep. Usually he would gather his invisibility cloak and head out into the castle for a walk, but he is rooted to his bed. Malfoy might be out there again. And if Malfoy’s out there, he is probably…and if he’s doing that, he’s probably doing that on the second floor in the Charms classroom. Of course, Harry could always avoid that level but then again, he doesn’t trust himself. If he hears even the faintest moan, he doesn’t think he’d be able to walk away. But Merlin, he really can’t sleep.

Harry suddenly has an idea and he feels silly it didn’t come to him earlier. He pulls out the Maurauder’s Map and checks the Charms classroom. It’s empty. No Malfoy. Harry breathes a sigh of relief. Before he gets up, he scans the Slytherin Dormitory for the little dot that reads Draco Malfoy. He’s in his bed. Good. That’s good.

Harry’s late night strolls through the castle usually see him wandering aimlessly, usually discovering new rooms as he does – Hogwarts never ceases to amaze him. Tonight, however, his stroll is a tad more deliberate even though he doesn’t realise it. He halts when he finds himself next to the statue of Helga Hufflepuff. Fuck. At least he knows Malfoy isn’t here.

 Somehow, and he really isn’t sure how as he is telling himself desperately to walk away, he ends up entering the Charms classroom. Although knowing it is empty, he half expects to see Malfoy’s arse anyway. Of course no such sight greets him. Instead he stares at the desk he was sitting at earlier today. Why did Malfoy choose that desk, he wonders, with his back to the door? Did he not care about getting caught? Did he want to be caught?

Harry moves towards the desk, and leans one arm on it as he witnessed Malfoy do. He feels strangely excited. It must be the remaining evil from the horcrux that once lived inside of him because suddenly Harry is pulling his pajama pants down to his ankles, letting his boxers follow suit. He doesn’t even need to touch himself before his cock starts to rise. He takes a deep breath. He now understands why Malfoy prefers this to wanking in bed. He slowly moves his free hand down to grip himself. He can’t help but let out a quiet gasp. It’s electrifying to touch himself here in a classroom. It feels so incredibly wrong but somehow that only adds to the thrill.

He hesitates before stroking himself. He can’t believe he is really going to do this. Wank himself in a classroom, in the same exact spot as Malfoy. Fuck. He glides a palm up and down his shaft slowly concentrating on all the sensations. It has never felt this good before. His hand halts when he suddenly hears nearby footsteps. Fuck. He doesn’t move. As long as he completely silent, the person will just walk past the classroom anyway…unless…

Harry turns as he hears the door behind him creak, hand still gripping his cock tightly. His eyes meet Malfoy’s and Harry knows he is completely busted. But in the next instant, Malfoy’s eyes are gliding past Harry’s as if he’s staring right through him. The invisibility cloak! He hasn’t taken it off. Harry would have cheered if he were able.

Harry watches as Malfoy shuts the door behind him and starts to walk towards the desk and therein lies the next problem. Harry tries to move backwards before Malfoy reaches him, but the pants locked around his ankles mean he can only shuffle slowly. Malfoy is so close, he’s going to bump into Harry. Harry, panicked, tries to shuffle faster. He hears a faint creak underneath his feet. Fuck.

Malfoy pauses, but instead of reaching forward and exposing Harry, he turns around and heads back to the door. He opens it, so that it hangs wide open. He looks at the entryway thoughtfully before clearly changing his mind, and reclosing the door, but leaving it slightly ajar, just as it was last night. This gives Harry the time to shuffle further back to the opposite side of the desk, before Malfoy walks towards him again.

Suddenly realising what is about to happen, Harry is frozen to the spot. Malfoy is going to touch himself again, right here in front of Harry. Oh fuck. He stifles his breathing as it is much too heavy and he is worried Malfoy might catch on.

Malfoy hands move to the waistband of his pants. Harry’s eyes follow the motion intently. Malfoy hooks his thumbs in them and Harry cannot look away. He’s going to see Malfoy’s cock. Oh merlin. Fuck. This is it. Malfoy pulls his pants down, and fuck, he’s not even wearing any underwear. Seeing Malfoy’s cock, Harry almost blows his cover.  He bites his lip to stop himself from whimpering. Oh merlin, please, Harry thinks to himself, please be quiet. Harry doesn’t dare touch his cock in case the noise alerts Malfoy, but fuck, he is hard. So fucking hard.

He watches Malfoy’s hand stroke his cock up and down, up and down, and then a moan. Fuck, that moan. Harry tears his eyes away to look up at Malfoy’s face. His eyes are closed, his mouth open ever so slightly. The sight is almost more erotic than the boy’s cock. Another moan. Harry sees it this time as it escapes from Malfoy’s lips. Malfoy’s breathing is heavy now, which is a relief, as he would hear Harry’s for sure if his own wasn’t so loud.

Despite the torture of not being able to touch himself, Harry never wants this to end. Standing so close to Malfoy as he strokes himself, hearing those moans up close, seeing that turned on face, that slick pale cock is the most erotic and exhilarating experience Harry has ever had. And if Malfoy keeps moaning just like that, Harry might just cum without the assistance of his hand.

With a loud whimpering moan, Malfoy finishes himself, and Harry watches as the white cum bursts from Malfoy’s cock all over the tabletop, just as he had fantasized it would. Against his better judgement, but not being able to resist any longer, Harry brings a hand to his own cock and strokes only twice before he is cumming himself. He is disappointed when instead of covering Malfoy’s, his cum hits the inside of the cloak and falls to his feet.

Malfoy is still panting, his eyes closed, and thankfully doesn’t seem to have heard Harry’s release. After regaining his breath, he covers himself back up with his pants, and retrieves his wand from the pocket. He casts a quick cleaning spell, removing the white streaks from the tabletop. He pushes back a stray hair behind his ear before exiting quickly, leaving Harry standing alone in a pool of his own cum, feeling incredibly confused.


End file.
